


Keep Careful Watch of my Brother's Soul

by fandomlver



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Kíli's a prince too, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 17:57:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomlver/pseuds/fandomlver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kíli doesn't get in trouble every time he's out of sight of the others. Just most times. Fluff, H/C, and Kíli acting like the prince he actually is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Careful Watch of my Brother's Soul

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing except the way these particular words hang together.

Fíli blames himself.

The others tell him - Thorin tells him - that there's no blame on him. None of them were with Kíli; none of them thought it strange that he hadn't found them yet. None of them much enjoy shopping for supplies, especially not in towns that cater mostly to Men, but they all take it seriously when it falls to them, none less than Fíli and Kíli. And since they're waiting for him in a tavern, one of the few that caters to Dwarves, they grow steadily less concerned as time goes by.

They don't realise the human girl is trying to get their attention, not until Bilbo gestures her closer to listen and then leans over the table. "Fíli!"

"Have a drink, Mr Boggins!" Fíli cheers. They've had little chance to relax on the Quest, and they'll have few more. He intends to enjoy this one.

"Fíli!" Bilbo insists, and when Fíli doesn't react the Hobbit reaches for his arm and tugs. He can't quite get Fíli out of the chair, of course, but he dislodges him slightly, and Fíli sighs, giving up.

"I'm Fíli," he tells the girl. He's terrible at human ages, but he thinks she's probably an adult, though not by much.

"Kíli sent me."

He's still processing that when she opens her hand. Kíli's hair clasp, stained with something red that his brain refuses to identify, lays in her palm.

"He's all right, I think, or he will be," she says before he can demand answers. "I can't move him, though, and he wants you. Come with me."

Fíli follows her without question. Behind them he can hear Bilbo repeating what little he heard; before his guide has even reached the door, the entire Company is on their feet, following them.

The girl doesn't seem worried, leading him through several streets before turning down an alley. Kíli is sitting against a wall halfway down, too pale, eyes tightly closed. A younger human girl is kneeling beside him, hands pressed to his thigh. Blood seeps out, staining her hands and their clothes, puddling under their knees.

Fíli falls to his knees beside them. Kíli reaches out without looking, hand knotting in Fíli's leathers. "I'm all right."

"What happened?" Fíli demands of no one in particular.

Oin is there, kneeling on Kíli's other side, gently urging the child - and she is a child, this one, even Fíli can see that much - to let go. Kíli sucks in a breath when she does, hand tightening in Fíli's clothes.

The older girl is talking over his head, probably to Thorin. "He saved us. My sister and I were going home, and three men - everyone ignored our screams. Except Kíli. He saved us."

Thorin must make a gesture, something Fíli can't see, because the girl adds, "One of them stabbed him. I don't think they were expecting things to be so - they panicked. Kicked him a couple of times and ran off. I'm sorry, sir."

"Don't be." Thorin's voice is gruff. "I'm quite sure he isn't." Kíli huffs out a laugh but doesn't try to answer. "Bofur, Bifur, see the ladies safe home."

"Aye," Bofur says, unusually subdued. "Come on, lassie."

Fíli looks up. The child is hiding behind her sister's skirts, clearly terrified. He thinks about how hard it must have been, to sit with a stranger while her sister crossed the town to fetch help, and summons a smile. "Thank you."

She smiles back, uncertain. The older one is speaking again. "Sir, they broke his bow as they ran. Would you - my father is a craftsman, he makes bows and arrows among other things. He would see Kíli with the finest bow in this land as a thanks, if you'll allow it."

Kíli watches Thorin swallow his pride. "I will make sure he knows. Bofur."

Bofur and Bifur herd the girls away. Bombur goes with them.

Throin comes to join Fíli, reaching to touch Kíli's shoulder. "Kíli?"

"I'm all right," Kíli says again.

Bilbo is kneeling beside Oin, passing him lengths of cloth, helping him to bind the wound. Kíli is silent beyond tiny gasps and sharp breaths; Fíli doesn't think the others can hear him, but he talks over him anyway, gently teasing him about more girls fallen under his spell, about disturbing their celebrations, about leaping before looking.

"I had to," Kíli says, breathless. "No one was helping. A child's cries, and they ignored it. They turned away. I had to."

"It was foolish," Thorin says, and Fíli feels Kíli cringe, sinking into himself. "But brave," he adds gently. He reaches to touch Kíli's shoulder again, awkward as always. "Brave," he says, so softly Fíli doesn't think they were meant to hear him.

"The wound is nasty," Oin says, "but not dangerous. Perhaps a day's rest, and proper care. It will heal cleanly." Glancing at them, he adds, "He has lost much blood, though. The child may have saved his life."

"She made me sing," Kíli says, face twisting oddly. "Her sister told her I was to stay awake, so she made me sing."

"Good," Oin says bluntly. "She was right. Where else are you injured, Kíli?"

He lets them tend to a knot on his head - swollen and bloody, but not dangerous - and to bruised ribs, courtesy of a Man's kick, before declaring that he's fine. He even tries to stand on his own; Thorin and Fíli move as one to steady him.

They'd planned to camp outside of the town that evening. Thorin sends Nori and Ori to arrange a room at the inn, quietly promises Fíli that at least two of the Company will be in earshot at all times, and then helps Kíli to stand. He can't put any weight on the injured leg, and it takes them a long time to get back to the inn. Kíli tries to protest that he can sleep with the others outside town; Thorin ignores him, following Ori upstairs.

Oin holds Fíli back to give him instructions; plenty of water, let him sleep if he can, let him eat if he will, watch for any strange pain or stiffness. Fíli has heard it all before, but he endures until Oin lets him go.

Bilbo lifts a hand hesitantly, and Fíli stops, consciously summoning a polite smile. "Mr Baggins."

"I found these." Bilbo looks down at his hands and Fíli follows his gaze. The bow, broken in two and still connected by the string, and the quiver, dirtied and ripped. The fletching on the arrows has been deliberately ruined. "I didn't know - I didn't think he should see them, but I don't know the customs. I didn't want to leave them lying there."

Fíli grimaces. He can't deal with this now, not with Kíli laying injured above. "You were right not to leave them," he says for Bilbo's sake. "Please ask Balin to deal with them."

"Of course."

He passes Thorin on the stairs. They don't speak.

Kíli sleeps, fitfully. Fíli doesn't. He sits, watching over his brother, ready with water and fresh bandages, ready to do whatever is needed. He's still sitting there when Bofur taps on the door the next morning.

He holds out the hair clasp, now clean and shining brightly. "The poor lass forgot she was holding it," he murmurs. "She was very upset."

"Are they all right?" Fíli doesn't care much on their account, though he doesn't wish any harm on them, but he knows Kíli will ask once he's awake.

"Aye." Bofur glances past him but doesn't ask after Kíli. "D'you think Thorin will let them give us a bow? I saw some of his work, it looked most impressive. Mind, I don't know much about bows myself. Never gave them much thought."

"It might be up to Kíli." Fíli glances back as he hears Kíli move. "Bofur, can you see about breakfast?"

"Aye, lad, and Oin's waiting to see you, if Kíli's awake."

"Awake," Kíli echoes from inside, and Fíli smiles resignedly.

The bruised ribs give Kíli far more trouble than the leg, today; the wound there was clean, and relatively promptly looked after. He needs to watch his weight and balance, but it's nothing he can't deal with. The ribs, though, pull awkwardly whenever he moves, and they have to stop in the middle of getting him dressed and take off some layers. He can't carry his sword or his dagger, and Fíli can see how much it bothers him.

Between them, Oin, Thorin and Fíli keep Kíli in the room for the day. The Company can afford a day, Thorin tells Fíli quietly, but they must be gone by noon the next day. There's no more time.

Kíli sleeps deeply that night. Fíli doesn't.

Kíli wakes early the next morning, well before any of the others have come by. Fíli's awake, as he has been for days, standing by the window and watching the streets below.

"Do you know where they are?" Kíli asks quietly. Fíli turns towards him, and he adds, "The girls. Do you know where they live?"

"We're leaving today."

"Then we should go and see them this morning."

Fíli tries to talk him out of it, but he gives in in the end. He's rarely been able to sway Kíli when he's this certain. Kíli still can't handle wearing the sword, but they manage to arrange his belt so he can wear his dagger. They pass Balin and Bofur in the common room - why those two, Fíli isn't sure, but neither try to stop them, just watch them go.

Bofur has given Fíli directions, and they find the little house without too much difficulty. The storefront is closed, and though there's light behind the windows, no one is visible. Fíli studies it for a moment before turning to Kíli; his brother is too pale, shrunken in on himself, one hand pressed awkwardly to his side. "What do you want to do?"

Kíli's spared the decision when the store door opens and a Man looks out. He catches sight of them, frowning in suspicion. "Can I help you, good Dwarves?"

Kíli straightens, and Fíli remembers in a way he usually doesn't that Kíli, too, is heir to the Throne under the Mountain, every bit as much royalty as Thorin. "I am Kíli Durinson, sir." His bow is shorter than usual, but the Man probably won't know the difference.

"Duri - Kíli. Ah, the dwarf who saved my girls! Please, please come in, good sir, and your friend, come along."

"My brother," Kíli says, following him into the shop. "Fíli."

"Let me call the girls," the man says, waving Kíli towards a stool. It's too high, of course, and Kíli leans against the counter instead, one hand back on his ribs.

"Are they well?" he asks.

The Man turns back from the door, considering them. "Well enough, and better than they'd have been without you. My oldest slept poorly that night, but she's well now." He turns away again, calling names Fíli doesn't hear through the door into the house.

The younger girl comes in, sees them, and makes straight for Kíli. Fíli intercepts her without thinking, lifting his hands away as the Man comes forward. "His ribs," he says in explanation.

The Man nods, turning to the girl. "Gently, gently, little one."

She nods solemnly, studying Kíli. "You're short. I couldn't tell before."

Kíli gives the same half bow, still wearing his royalty like a cloak. "Thank you for my life."

She frowns in confusion, retreating back behind her father's legs. He sighs, absently petting her head. "We're going to leave town," he says conversationally. "I cannot have my children in a place where Men turn away from children's cries. Master Durinson, I would take it as a kindness if you would take a bow, and whatever arrows please you. Less for me to carry when we leave. They're not built for Dwarves, but perhaps you'll find something to suit you."

"They're fine bows." Kíli runs a hand along the curve of one bow. "But not built for Dwarves. Thank you for your kindness."

"Perhaps this one." The older girl steps in, a bow in her hands. "It was built for a human lordling. The draw was too strong for him. It's not dwarf made, but it's a good bow."

Kíli takes it from her; it's unstrung, and he touches the curve lightly. "May I..."

She produces bowstring and, when he can't turn to do it, strings it for him in quick movements. Kíli plucks the string and then pulls on it properly; Fíli sees him flinch at the pull on his ribs, but he's nodding. "It's a good bow. Thank you."

The girl passes Fíli a quiver full of arrows, smiling uncertainly at him, and then looks back at Kíli. "Thank you, master Dwarf, for our lives."

"Thank you for mine," he says, with a hint of a smile. "Where are you travelling to?"

"Towards the Iron Hills. There are towns there where a craftsman can find work."

Kíli smiles faintly, straightening again. "Should you need it, sir, seek audience with Dain Ironfoot, Lord of the Iron Hills. Tell him that Kíli Durinson owes you a debt, and he will see it repaid."

"You owe me no debt, sir."

Kíli shakes his head. "Consider it there. For the sake of your children, who saved my life."

The Man glances at his daughters, nodding slowly. "Aye. I thank you, sir. It was a lucky day for us when you came to town."

"Kíli," Fíli murmurs, straightening. "We must go," he says for the Man's benefit. "We travel on today, and there are supplies to find yet. Thank you for the bow."

"I'd do more, if I had more stock suited to you."

Kíli shakes his head, rubbing the bow gently. "This is more than enough. Thank you, sir."

The girls accompany them into the street. Kíli tugs gently on the child's hair, smiling at her. "Don't go out after dark any more."

"If I see dwarves in the new place, can I sing them the song you taught me?"

"If you like." He bows his head to the older girl, walking away with Fíli at his shoulder.

"Well done, my prince," Fíli murmurs, and there's nothing but genuine respect in his tone.

Kíli only smiles.


End file.
